


funky lil butt paper skeleton friend

by des-troyer (devilsalwayscry)



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Absolutely a shitpost fic, Crack, Gen, I embrace that, but you know what
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 16:56:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20604170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devilsalwayscry/pseuds/des-troyer
Summary: It is, without a doubt, the most horrible thing Vergil has ever laid eyes upon.(This fic is a shitpost. I apologize for nothing.)





	funky lil butt paper skeleton friend

**Author's Note:**

> For falt, who humors me every single day and is honestly the best, and the Spardacest discord server as a whole, who probably regret ever getting to know me after this.
> 
> Love you. <3
> 
> Inspired by [this funky little dude](https://twitter.com/_youhadonejob1/status/1167092464471203841?s=20) someone posted on Twitter. I honest to god want one after this. We are way too invested in him now.

It is, without a doubt, the most horrible thing Vergil has ever laid eyes upon. 

He cannot believe he didn't notice it sooner. Exhaustion must have affected him more than he thought--they've only just returned to the human world, after all, and a majority of his time thus far has been spent recuperating. Now, however, he is more aware, and so he stands in his brother's bathroom, staring at the absolute monstrosity that is his toilet paper holder, wondering if Dante has gone mad in the years they have been apart.

It is hideous. He thinks it might be a... skeleton, perhaps? The thing is made entirely of metal bars welded together into the shape of something that could be called humanoid. It stands on two legs, has two arms, and sports a tiny, disproportionate rib cage. Atop it's small shoulders is a grinning skeletal head, shiny and bright silver. In it's outstretched hands it holds a roll of toilet paper, as if in offering.

Vergil hates it more than he hates anything else in this world or the next.

He finishes his business quickly, removes the toilet paper roll from its hands (no use wasting it), picks the infernal thing up, and walks it directly out of the shop. Behind him, he hears Dante's incredulous shout from where he sits at his desk--"Hey, where do you think you're going with that!?"--but he is not going to stop until he has located the dumpster and put this terrible thing where it belongs.

With the skeleton toilet paper holder disposed of, he returns to the shop, ignores his brother's loud protests about "redecorating without his consent," and retreats back to his room.

Clearly his little brother's tastes in decor have never matured past the age of nineteen.

***  
"Unbelievable..." Vergil mutters to himself as he enters the bathroom a week later, flipping on the light to immediately be greeted by the shiny, blinding radiance of the toilet paper holder's silver metal skull. He stares at it in disbelief. He should have known Dante would never let the thing go--if only he could have been so lucky.

What could he _possibly_ find so appealing about this horrible thing? It is probably three feet tall. It is unsightly. It rips the toilet paper on the sharp, poorly formed ends of it's thin arms when you remove it, therefore meaning it is ineffective at its intended purpose.

It is not practical, fashionable, or useful in any way whatsoever.

Vergil showers quickly, determined to deal with the situation immediately. Once dressed, he grabs the skeleton, retrieves the Yamato from his room, and marches into the lobby.

He holds it up by it's... spine, announcing to Dante: "No."

Dante looks at him over his magazine, frowning first at the toilet paper holder, then at the Yamato. Tossing the magazine to the side, he stands, pointing at Vergil.

"Don't even think about it, bro. Leave the funky lil' dude alone. What'd he ever do to you?" Dante asks, waving a hand toward the hideous thing.

Vergil freezes at Dante's words, staring down at the object in his hand.

He called it "he."

This needs to end.

"It is _horrible_."

"Yeah, well, my shop, my rules. You don't get to just move in here and redecorate, Verg," Dante says with a shrug. Vergil turns toward the door without waiting for another word, and there is a bright flare of red light and the smell of smoke as Dante blinks across the room to bar his path.

"Move," Vergil says, to which Dante reaches up and jabs a finger into his chest, directly into his sternum, as if he is scolding him. With his other hand, he grabs ahold of the accursed thing, making a move to pull it from Vergil’s grip. Vergil does not let go, and when the terrible thing begins to bend ever so slightly to their combined stubborn might, Dante resorts instead to just clinging to it. As if Vergil wouldn’t go through him to get rid of the thing.

"Hell no."

They glare at each other over the toilet paper holder for a moment before Dante grins. He holds out his hand--the devil sword Dante appears in a flash of fire and smoke.

"Fight me over it. I win, he stays. You win--"

"I destroy _it_."

Dante shrugs. "Sure, whatever makes you feel better."

He places the cursed thing to the side, unsheathes the Yamato, and takes them somewhere remote, with ample room for their fight.

"Usual rules. First one to land a blow wins," Dante says, dropping into a deceptively simple and casual battle-ready pose. Vergil knows his brother well enough to not be fooled by his display of nonchalance, and so he lifts the Yamato, widens his stance, and smiles.

Dante charges.

And Vergil _loses._

***  
Vergil is a man of his word, and so the toilet paper holder remains a terrible fixture of the restroom despite his protests. While he no longer attempts to remove it, he wastes no opportunity to inform Dante of how absolutely hideous it is, or how in the way it is, or how it's torn through half the roll of toilet paper, which is a waste of money that Dante does not have. His brother does not seem to care for any of these facts, rolling his shoulders and shrugging off Vergil's complaints like water.

It is infuriating, but he will tolerate it, because Dante won their fight fair and square.

He begins to question his decision several weeks later when he passes the bathroom door, on his way to the library to retrieve the newest book on demonic warding rituals he has been studying, and he hears a voice. Dante's voice, to be exact, low and muffled behind the closed door, but audible none-the-less.

"That place has been around since before I had you."

Is he...

Is he talking to it?

For a moment, Vergil is not sure how to proceed. He stands frozen in place in the middle of the hallway, staring blankly ahead of him, processing the fact that his brother--his _identical twin_, and what kind of cruel joke that is--is talking to a metal skeleton-shaped toilet paper holder.

Not just talking to it, but having a _full blown conversation._

Vergil spins on his heel, book completely forgotten, and walks back to the lobby. Now that he has been made aware of Dante's conversation, he cannot _stop_ hearing it. Dante's voice carries through the vents, loud enough that Vergil can make out the words even three rooms over ("It's a tragedy..."), and he _will not tolerate this_.

With a purposeful slam of the front door, he leaves the shop, marches down the stairs, and then drops down onto the last step. Blissfully, he cannot hear his brother from where he sits on the concrete, and so he props his chin into his hands and stares at the cracked asphalt and wonders how much an apartment as far away from the Devil May Cry might cost him monthly. Surely he could afford it. It _must_ be better than living with _this_.

So wrapped up in his thoughts of moving out of the shop is he that Vergil does not immediately notice his son's presence until Nero is standing before him, one hand on his hip and the other already pinching his brow.

"He's talking to the fucking toilet paper skeleton again, isn't he?" Nero asks, and Vergil simply continues his extensive and pointed analysis of the largest crack in the street, refusing to even consider the possibility that this is an occurrence with enough frequency that Nero is already well aware of it.

With a sigh, his son walks past him up the stairs and into the shop, leaving the door ajar (Vergil will have to scold him for that, once he's able to recover from his current... shock). From within, Vergil can hear Dante's voice -- "Hey kid" -- and Nero's immediately answered -- "Can you _please_ throw that thing away? I think you've traumatized my old man."

Dante laughs. “No can do, kid. He fought me for it and I won. Butt paper skeleton friend is staying.”

“How the fuck am I even related to you,” Nero says, and Vergil feels a swell of pride at his next words: “Fine. I’ll fight you for it, then. I win, it’s mine.”

“Bring it on.”


End file.
